


Numb In This Kingdom

by RemyShepard (RemingtonSteele)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mentions of Past Torture, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Renegade Commander Shepard, evil!shepard, mentions of past rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5728561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemingtonSteele/pseuds/RemyShepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Shepard's leadership has always been particularly harsh, but when James goes to him for advice, he begins to learn that Shepard's depravity reaches farther than anyone could have anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please take heed to the warnings I give in the tags. This fic does revolve around rape and the aftermath of rape. There will be multiple instances, but I will be as sensitive as I can with them. I am not a fan of gratuitous rape in stories and I hope I haven't made it gratuitous here. I will post each additional warning before each chapter they appear in. Fair warning now, if you are not a fan of evil/dark renegade Shep this is not something you should read. This is a story about abuse and recovering from abuse. Shepard/James is not endgame and was never intended as such, given that the abuse, in my intentions doesn't come so much from attraction as simply a fucked up desire to break another person, so if you ship broShep and James, this may also not be for you. Work title taken from Daughter's song Numbers, because their new album just came out and I can't stop crying about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW in this chapter for rape, but the actual act happens offscreen. Nonetheless, there is no ambiguity about what is happening.

The first time it happened, James Vega was thrown completely off guard. Not that there’s any way he could have anticipated what would happen to him, but the residual shock and humiliation still felt a crushing weight against his chest afterwards.

It had started so simple. Just a conversation. Asking for advice. And it had been James who suggested they talk. How he kicked himself later for being so naïve.

“James, I’ve got some free time if you want to talk privately,” Shepard’s voice echoed over his personal comm, and James had felt a jolt of anxiety, not because he was going to talk to Shepard, but because he was going to talk to him about something so important, so personal. Shepard was his commanding officer, a mentor, a hero figure to the N7 program. Hell, if he couldn’t give James some proper advice, nobody around could do much for him.

“On my way.” He replied, keeping his voice even. James set down the tools he was using to clean his shotgun and stepped into the elevator, taking it all the way to the top floor, the captain’s cabin. The light on the door shown green, so he entered without knocking, putting a swagger into his walk to make him seem more confident than he felt.

“Hey, man, how’s it going?” He asked in a nonchalant voice. Start casual, that’s good.

“Just fine. You?” James would never get used to the bright, cyborg-esque red of Shepard’s eyes, the way the glowing cracks zigzagged across his face and down his neck. Shepard may have been the hero of the galaxy, but even James had to admit, he was an unnerving man to look at.

“Good, good.” James said, pointedly trying to look anywhere but at those bright irises. He thought he noticed Shepard narrow his eyes briefly, but it could have just been nerves messing with him. James continued his casual swagger, now taking in the rest of Shepard’s cabin. It was quite impressive, not just because of the fish tank extending the length of the far wall, but all the ship models in the display cases. And a personal bathroom. Damn.

“Wow.” He said, trying to ease the awkward tension. “So this is what I can look forward to when I get my own command.”

He heard Shepard moving behind him, but didn’t turn around when the other man spoke. “You want your own ship, Vega?” His voice sounded amused, almost mocking. James shrugged it off, figuring the Commander was just taking the usual friendly jab at him, so he responded in kind.

“Yeah, maybe one day. When I’m old and can’t fight worth shit anymore.” He turned to face Shepard finally, and almost swallowed his words back down when he noticed the Commander’s lips tighten, eyes going colder than they normally are. Then the tension was gone, almost as if it had never been.

“You just come up here to make fun of your Commander?” Shepard asked, voice oddly flat and not matching the humor of the words. James decided it was time to cut to the chase. He walked down the steps towards Shepard.

“Sorry, Commander.” He said. There was silence, as Shepard waited for an explanation. So he obliged. “I guess maybe I’ve got some things on my mind. I wanted to get your opinion on something.”

Shepard crossed his arms, never taking his eyes off Vega. “Alright.”

James looked down at his feet for a moment, scuffing the toes of his boots in an insecure tick. “What’d you do when they asked you to join the N7 program?” He asked, looking back up at Shepard. “I mean, was it a no-brainer for you, or did you think about it before accepting?”

Shepard’s face twisted into an arrogant half grin. “I’m a soldier, Vega, and I wanted to be the best. It doesn’t get better than N7.”

“So I hear.” James replied, feeling small all of a sudden as Shepard continued.

“You get the best training, best equipment, best assignments…”

“And they expect the best in return,” James finished.

Shepard nodded. “Yes, they do. Why are you asking?”

Alright here goes nothing, James thought. “Well, even with all the shit that’s going on, somebody, somewhere managed to track me down and forward an N7 commendation. It’s dated the same day the Reapers attacked Earth.” He watched Shepard closely, trying to draw out some reaction, but the Commander’s face remained still and unreadable as ever.

“You don’t sound too thrilled,” Shepard stated.

“Well, aside from the fact that there won’t be an N7 program if we don’t win this war, I just…” he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Being a soldier’s the only thing I’ve ever been really good at. And not cause I try.” He shrugged. “Hell, I’d have kicked my ass out years ago. Last time I had a command, I lost almost everyone. And they promoted me for it. I guess I’m just not sure if I’m ready to lead again. I don’t know if I want that responsibility.”

Shepard was silent for a moment, contemplating him with the usual blank expression that made James’s skin crawl.

“As a soldier, as a leader you’ve got a job to do. Keeping everyone alive isn’t it.” James was taken aback by the abrasive and direct reply, but he didn’t speak up as Shepard continued talking. “If you’re afraid to do what needs to be done, no matter the cost, you’ll never succeed.”

“Yeah…” James finally replied, unsure if he agreed, but not comfortable enough to voice an opposition. So instead he turned the conversation back on Shepard. “Did you um.. did you know that before you joined the N7?”

Shepard’s arrogant half smile was back as he spoke. “Yeah. That’s why I was asked. And it’s why they asked you. They see the potential for greatness. The willingness to do what you have to. There’s not a single N7 that hasn’t sacrificed either themselves or their troops at some point for the greater good.”

James considered Shepard’s words, still not certain whether he agreed with the sentiment or not. “So you think I should accept?” He finally asked.

“That remains to be seen.”

“Yeah.... yeah maybe you're right,” James replied, shifting on his feet. Shepard’s cold gaze was really starting to get under his skin. “If you don’t mind, maybe don’t mention this to anyone else?” He said finally.

“Of course not,” Shepard gave an unreadable smile.

“Well, gracias for the pep talk anyways. I think I better get back to the hangar. Things here are just a little too soft for me,” he joked, trying to ease the weird tension radiating from Shepard. However, Shepard just broke into a shark-like grin, something James had only seen a few times when he witnessed the Commander make a more brutal corpse of an enemy.

The air suddenly felt stifling, for reasons he couldn’t quite place. He really needed to get out of there. He gave one last attempt at a joking smile and turned to go, but the Commander’s cold voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Hold on, Vega.” James recognized that voice. That was Shepard’s Commander Voice. He turned to look at Shepard, jumping when he saw the man had stepped quite a lot into his personal space, scars and eyes glowing bright.

James cleared his throat, trying to clear the confusion along with it. “Something else you needed, Commander?” He tried, staring somewhere around the bridge of Shepard’s nose, unable to look into those cybernetic irises.

Shepard raised one eyebrow. “Yes, in fact.”

He didn’t offer anything further, so James gave his signature cocky grin and attempted to joke again, trying to hide the shake in his voice with a forced chuckle. “Listen, Commander, you gotta buy me dinner first, you know.”

Shepard didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smile. Shit.

“You know, Vega. You’d honestly make a great N7. If you didn’t have such a problem with mouthing off.” He said finally, taking another step closer. James shrugged at that, trying still to make light of the situation, but his smile died on his lips when Shepard suddenly shoved him against the door, omnitool glowing, and James heard an electronic whirr as the door locked behind him.

“Com…Commander?” He tried, hating how his voice kicked up into a whimper at the end. Shepard didn’t offer an explanation, but continued speaking over James’ confused protests. “Never taking anything seriously.”

The Commander was freakishly strong, unsurprising given all those Cerberus upgrades. He held James against the door with a forearm across his chest, the other holding one arm in a vice grip. It fucking _hurt._ Shepard didn’t say anything in reply, but glanced up at the ceiling.

“EDI, turn off comms and disable cameras in my cabin. Including yours.”

What the fuck?

EDI’s voice echoed across the room, and James could have sworn he heard concern in her electronic vocals.

“Is that wise, Shepard?”

The Commander’s eyes seemed to glow brighter for a moment as his face shifted to one of cold rage.

“Did I ask for the opinion of a damned _A.I._? Do your job, and don’t ask stupid questions.”

James swallowed in fear, trying not to flinch at the sharpness of Shepard’s voice.

There was a pause before EDI replied, her voice sounding small.

“Of course, Shepard. I will do as you ask. Logging you out.”

James felt a sense of panic at EDI’s last words, and the thought _don’t leave me_ danced briefly through his head. But she had seemingly already gone. He felt his gut clench as the Commander turned red eyes back onto him. His arm never left James’ chest, but the other began scraping lightly along his neck, tracing the tattoos there in a twisted play of gentleness.

“What, you speechless, James? For once in your life?” Shepard was smiling, but his voice was cruel, unplayful. He pressed the lieutenant harder into the door. James licked his lips, trying to control his panicked breathing. This could not be happening. What the fuck? What the fuck.

One of Shepard’s hands had made its way up to James’ face and was now tracing along his cheekbone, the scar across his nose. The Commander’s hands were unnaturally hot, and James felt his skin burn slightly where Shepard touched. Shepard moved two fingers to James’ mouth, his eyes hungry with something James had never seen, not even on the battlefield.

“Open.” Shepard said. James just stared at him, shock still not wearing off yet. At his hesitation, the Commander narrowed his eyes again, fingers pressing harder against James’ lips.

“You ignoring a direct order from your commanding officer, Vega?” He spoke, clear warning laced in his voice. “I said….” He moved in closer, nearly touching their noses together. “Open. Your. Mouth.”

And James complied, god damn him. Shepard slipped two fingers between James’ lips and kept going until he touched the back of his throat. James tried to hold back the gag, but it escaped, the sound hateful and humiliating in the silence of the room. Shepard smiled that shark grin, and James knew he would never be able to look directly at his Commander in a fight again. James closed his eyes as Shepard pulled his fingers out before shoving them back in. He tried to fight the tears that welled. He was already humiliated enough and now he had to fucking cry?

After a few thrusts, Shepard removed his fingers and stroked them, spit slick, along James’s brow before laughing softly.

“Good soldier. Glad to see you still know your place.”

For a brief moment, James stupidly thought that was it. That Shepard was finished with him and he could go hide in the cargo bay and avoid all questions and pretend this never happened. But instead, Shepard just stepped back, hands going to the waist button of his Alliance fatigue pants.

Fuck.

“On your knees.” Shepard ordered, warning back in his voice. “And don’t make me tell you twice, Vega.”

Alright, so this was going to happen, James thought numbly. He couldn’t disobey Shepard, not in the moment. Not with the door locked behind him and nobody around to witness what was happening. He could go above Shepard’s head later. Go to Hackett. The Alliance had a zero tolerance policy for rape in the military, and for a commanding officer to pull rank in order to make it happen….surely someone would listen. Someone would do something about this. He tried to keep these thoughts from showing on his face as he dropped down, knees hitting the metal floor with a mocking thud.

It’s not like he’s never sucked a guy off before. He may not have participated in fraternizing during his years in the military, but that isn’t to say he didn’t have his fair share of good times before then, when he was still living carefree under the California sun.

This, though. There was nothing warm about this. Nothing intimate. He knew he could try to simulate past experiences in his head to make it more bearable, but nothing could erase the reality of the situation. He stared blankly as Shepard’s cock sprang from the confinement of his pants, the tip already dripping eagerly like a dog drooling for a bone. He felt Shepard’s hand snake around to the back of his head, gripping the short hairs there, nails digging into his scalp. Pulling him forward.

“Be a good soldier, now, James.”

So James did the only thing left that he could do. He opened his mouth and shut off his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some additional notes: I don't think I am going to have any actual slash with James and Ashley due to circumstances, so if you aren't into that ship, I think they can be read as platonic or romantic, depending on reader preference. Also I love EDI with my whole heart, the precious bab.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James deals with the aftermath.  
> TW for blood, injuries and the slight suggesting of self harm.

He didn’t know how long he spent in the crew bathroom afterwards, didn’t even stop to let his mind catch up with him until he’d already vomited twice and brushed his teeth for the fifth time, shoving the toothbrush down his throat again with a dry heave. Of course the Commander had made him swallow—James shivered, forcing himself not to finish that particular line of thought as he gagged one more time, spitting into the sink.

He couldn’t stop shaking. Every time footsteps sounded in the hall outside the bathroom door he would jump, hoping against hope for the door to remain closed, yet still scrabbling for his things, prepared to run out if necessary before anyone could get a good look at him. Then the footsteps would fade, and he would sigh in relief. He put his toothbrush back in his bag and hitched it over his shoulder, stopping to stare at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look much different. Eyes a little watery maybe, a bit more tired, shoulders tense. He didn’t know why a part of him expected a drastic change. Expected one of his eyes to be torn out, a chunk of his head gone. Expected some extreme physical maiming. Weird. James swallowed and looked away from his reflection, moving towards the door.

It was already pretty late, so he made a beeline for the elevator, hoping that everyone was too busy sleeping or working third shift to pay him any mind.

The cargo hold was empty, a small blessing to James. He was especially grateful that Cortez had apparently decided against working late that night and retired to the crew deck earlier than usual. James had no doubt his friend would know something was wrong immediately and press until James finally caved and explained everything. But Cortez didn’t need that. He had enough shit in his life without having to take care of a friend who was coming apart due to a little sexual assault. _Oh yeah, Esteban. It’s no big deal. The Commander just shoved his cock down my throat. I’m fine though. I’m completely fucking fine._

James threw his bag down next to the tiny cot and just stood there, putting both hands over his face in an attempt to stifle the whimper that so sneakily tried to escape his mouth. He couldn’t lose it. Not now. Didn’t want to give Shepard the satisfaction of having broken him so easily. So he did what he always did in times of stress.

He took a few deep breaths, then grabbed his hand wraps, covering knuckles in the rough, dirty fabric and making his way over to the boxing bag, where he immediately lit into it with all he had left. Everything became tunneled after that. Nothing existed for James except the _whup whup_ of his knuckles colliding with the leather, over and over again, striking out at the humiliation that burned in the back of his mind, of the fear he had felt when Shepard gripped his arm with bruising force. The shame that he didn’t fight back. Didn’t try harder to stop it. To stop. Stop it. Shut up. _Shut up just SHUT UP._ He only stopped when he felt wetness in his left palm, and looked down to see that his knuckles had bled open, the dark red fluid soaking through the wrap and seeping down into his palm. He cursed silently and unwrapped both hands to assess the damage properly.

The knuckles of his left hand were a mess, broken open in two places, the rest bruised black and blue, and his right was no better. He remembered his introspect in the bathroom about being maimed. Staring down now at his ruined knuckles, he felt satisfaction. Without letting his mind crank back into panic, he bandaged his hands, chugged a bottle of water, and threw himself onto his cot, covering his entire head with the thin blanket.

He only lay there for a few minutes, however, when the first sob betrayed him. He whispered a litany of curse words into his pillow, pretended it was not wet with tears. God. Fucking. Damnit. Not now. Please not yet. His crying was the only sound to be heard above the general hum of the cargo bay, until even those sounds were broken by a soft, electronic voice somewhere above his head.

“Lieutenant Vega.”

James jumped slightly at EDI’s voice, throwing the blanket off his head and sitting up, scrubbing hands over his face.

“Yeah, EDI?” He hated how his voice cracked.

“I detect signs of distress. Can I be of assistance?” Her voice held all the proper tones common in an A.I., but somehow he knew there was deeper meaning, deeper concern there. EDI was not some common A.I. after all.

“Umm, no.” He coughed. “No thanks, EDI. I’m f… I’m fine.” James wiped at his eyes once more, resting his head against the metal wall next to his cot.

“Very well.” EDI replied, not at all sounding convinced. James waited for the usual “logging you out,” but it never came.

“EDI…. you still there?” He asked meekly after a few minutes, feeling a bit foolish for asking.

“Yes, James.”

“Oh… okay. I’m uh…. I think I’m gonna try and get some shuteye now. Big day tomorrow.” He scrambled to try and make his voice sound normal, and not at all like he was sick to his very stomach at the prospect of ever having to look Commander Shepard in the eyes again, much less take orders from the man.

“Of course, Lieutenant.” Came EDI’s ever-so-calm (and ridiculously soothing) voice. James waited for more, but again was met with silence, so he flopped back down against his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

He had only been lying there for a moment when the soft sound of piano music suddenly filled the cargo hold. It was slow and gentle. It reminded him of childhood, one of the few memories he had left of his mom, how she used to put him in her lap and play the piano, a soothing therapy when he was just a red-faced toddler howling at the world. James had no idea if EDI actually knew this—he couldn’t remember ever divulging such a personal memory to anyone—or whether the A.I. had just made a lucky, educated guess. Either way, he felt his muscles relax as he let out an unexpected chuckle, and then a grateful sigh. It wasn’t soon after that he finally slipped into blessed unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shore leave and some slightly sad companionship.

Over the next few days, James made a task out of avoiding the Commander as much as possible without actually jumping ship. He stayed down in the cargo hold with Cortez, hung out in the mess and swapped stories with Garrus, or simply walked around all occupied areas of the ship. Never wanting to be alone. If he saw Shepard coming, he would make himself scarce, slip into the bathroom or beeline towards the elevator and go to another floor. He was sure Shepard must have noticed his avoidance by now, but the Commander made no mention or indication that he was bothered. In fact, he was acting like nothing had happened.

That, more than anything, unsettled James to no end. He was jumpy. He knew it, and he tried so hard to hide it. Tried to mask the nervous flinch that irritatingly made itself known every time someone approached him from behind.

James attempted to get ahold of Admiral Hackett on the second day, but it turned out the Admiral was a frustratingly difficult person to contact. No surprises there, considering all the shit he had on his plate in this damned war. Discretion meant an actual video conference was out of the question. There’s no way James could a hundred percent prevent Shepard from happening by and overhearing the conversation. God knows what he would do then. James shuttered at the thought and opened up his personal terminal, staring at the screen for a long time, trying to think of some way to compose the email.

He needed to make it seem urgent, but not too obvious in case Shepard somehow screened the personal communications of all crew members. It seemed likely. The Commander was apparently capable of all manner of invasive behaviors.

Eventually, James settled for something brief, but suggestive of important context.

_Admiral Hackett,_

_I have something important regarding the mission I would like to discuss with you, sir, if you have the time. Thank you._

_Lt. James Vega_

He read and re-read the email multiple times before finally hitting send.

Within a day he had a reply, but the contents of the reply made his stomach drop.

_Hello, Lt. Vega_

_Unfortunately the Admiral is too busy at the moment to respond to emails. We suggest if you have questions regarding the parameters of your mission that you speak directly to your Commanding Officer. Thank you and have a good day._

_Alliance Communications HQ_

Well there goes that plan. Fuck. James slammed his terminal closed and stood, pacing for a moment in frustrated helplessness. There had to be something. Something he could do. He opened his terminal again and checked the Normandy’s docking schedule. They were due to arrive in the Citadel within the next 24 ship hours. Well. It wasn’t much but at least it would give James a chance to catch some fresh air and open space. To lose himself in the buzz of strangers going about their business. Maybe he could hit up Purgatory, drink until the lingering humiliation and fear dissolved from his bones. Until then he supposed he would continue the task of dissolving into nothingness whenever Shepard made himself present.

*****

Purgatory, it turns out, was precisely the location of Shepard’s business for this particular shore leave. James had only just stepped into the crowded club when he noticed the Commander over to the side, sitting beside Aria T’Loak on her designated couch, deep in conversation with the asari. So James turned on his heel and left, deciding the refugee camp would suffice for now.

He found an isolated spot behind some storage crates and just sat for a while, looking up at the simulated blue sky. He palmed at his pockets, eventually finding the small, mostly full pack of cigarettes he often kept stashed there. He opened the top and pulled one stick out with his teeth, using the lighter program on his omnitool to ignite the tip, and took a deep drag. He nearly dropped the entire pack when the sudden sound of footsteps filled the air behind him, followed by a familiar voice.

“Lieutenant?”

“ _Dios_ , L.C.! You scared the shit outta me…” James turned to look at Ashley, who stood behind him with arms crossed and a small smirk on her lips. She had abandoned her usual Alliance fatigues in favor of worn jeans and a plaid shirt. James thought the look suited her. She laughed lightly and stepped forward, uncrossing her arms and gesturing at him.

“I didn’t know you smoked, Vega,” she observed, one dark eyebrow raised.

“Ahh..” James replied, glancing down at the pack still clutched in one hand. “I don’t usually, if I can help it. Gotta stay fit and all that,” He felt the lameness of the explanation, but was grateful when Ashley didn’t press further, instead moving to sit down beside him, legs folded. She gave a sigh and turned to look at him.

“Think I can bum one off you?” She asked, and for the first time he noticed the strain in her voice. James gave an unexpected laugh, trying to ease the atmosphere.

“Didn’t know you smoked, Williams,” he replied, offering her the open end of the pack. Ashley smirked and took a cigarette.

“I guess we’re both just full of surprises,” she joked, lighting the cigarette and inhaling before letting out a satisfied breath, smoke mingling with James’s own polluted exhales.

“So,” James began before Ashley could start making her own inquiries. “What brings you down here?”

She was quiet for a long time, focusing on the cigarette between her teeth. Finally she removed the stick and flicked its remains onto the ground, stretching out one boot-covered foot to crush the butt, grinding it attentively before going back to her previous sitting position.

“My sister…” She started, pausing for a moment to take another deep breath. “I was here for my sister. She held a memorial for her husband. K.I.A. a while back. I needed to be there for her.”

“Where is she now?” James asked, flicking his own spent cigarette onto the ground beside Ashley’s.

The woman shrugged. “She said she wanted to be alone for a while. Went up to her temp quarters. I get that, though. It’s fine.” She uncrossed her legs and placed feet on the floor, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, chin between clenched fists. “I just feel so helpless lately, you know?” She finally turned to look at him, eyebrows tense and drawn together.

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” James replied in a small voice. Ashley sat up and focused her attention on him more thoroughly. He had to fight the urge to cringe, to cover his face, lest she see invisible wounds and ask about them. But like so recently, his luck didn’t seem to be holding out.

“What about you, Vega? You’re usually right in the middle of all the bustle down here, not sitting sullenly in a corner nursing a cigarette.”

He laughed, forcing a smirk on his face, one that felt as fake as it appeared, if Ashley’s skeptical reaction was anything to go by.

“Guess I’m just starting to feel the pressures of the mission, is all. It’s exhausting.” A partial truth was better than nothing. It was better than the whole truth. To his relief her face softened in sympathy and she nodded.

“Yeah, it is,” she agreed in a whispery, rough voice.

“Shit, L.C., and this makes the second time you’ve ran into the jaws of death with Shepard. I don’t know how you can do it all over again.”

Ashley flinched at his words, however. Now _that_ was unexpected. She recovered quickly, though, and James decided not to press the topic. A kindness for a kindness.

“Yeah… sometimes I don’t know how I do it either,” she admitted, eyes seeming distant and sad. For a ridiculous second, James wanted to place his hand on her shoulder, give some sort of reassuring gesture, but in his hesitation, Ashley stood and heaved a sigh.

“I should be getting back, Lieutenant. Duty calls and all that.” She sounded tired. As tired as he felt lately. She began to leave, and then turned back at the last second, smirk on her face once more.

“But hey, thanks for the smoke, James. We should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah…” James agreed, but she was already gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things become tense again as Shepard approaches James for a round two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I have been successful in making Shepard's motivations really clear yet. I hope this chapter clears some stuff up, but if anyone is still confused please leave a comment telling me so I can try to figure out how to make it more understandable. Also usual TW in this chapter for non-con and some violence.

The second time was almost as unexpected as the first. He could never forget what had happened, but for a few weeks he was beginning to think maybe Shepard was done with him. They went on missions, saved people, killed bad guys, the usual. James still had trouble looking the Commander in the eyes, and he always felt a jolt of panic whenever Shepard would recruit him for ground team, but aside from the lingering anxiety, things more or less returned to normal.

Until his comm lit up, a familiar voice echoing through, causing James’s legs to nearly give out underneath him.

“Lieutenant Vega, see me in my cabin, please. We have some important matters to discuss.”

The Commander’s voice was blank and cold as usual, and James had to fight the urge to bend over and vomit right on his own boots. He hadn’t spoken with Shepard since the incident, had continued avoiding him at all costs, never muttering any more than the necessary one-word replies when he was addressed. It had become…. comfortable. Or as comfortable as James could possibly get nowadays. And all of that was about to be torn away from him. Again.

He finished organizing and putting away his armor, trying and failing to still the tremor in his fingers. Fucking hell. He closed the locker and rested his forehead against the cool metal. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe the Commander really did just want to talk to him. Maybe it would only take a minute. Maybe they were both just going to pretend nothing had happened, and it would all be over. There were bigger things out there to be frightened of, James thought, remembering the shriek of Banshees, the stench of blood and bodies strewn everywhere in that creepy monastery on Lesuss.

Taking another calming breath that seemed to do no good, he stood straight and walked to the elevator, trying not to make eye contact with Cortez, lest the other man see the fear in his eyes.

 

*****

Once again, Shepard’s cabin door glowed green, but James stilled in front of it, deciding instead to raise a hand and knock. A beat of silence and then that voice on the other side.

“Come in.”

The door opened before him, but he hesitated at the threshold.

Shepard was standing in front of the fish tank staring at the large green eels as they swam to and fro. His arms were crossed, face impassive.

“Don’t be shy, Vega.” He said, causing James to jump and realize he had yet to take any further steps into the cabin.

“Right, sorry.” James replied, voice tremoring a bit. He cleared his throat and moved forward, every step feeling like he had on mag boots. He could do this. Maybe nothing would happen. And maybe… maybe if the Commander tried anything…. maybe James could take him. Actually defend himself this time instead of cowering like a child.

The corner of Shepard’s mouth pulled up in a brief grin as he continued watching the fish. After a moment of awkward silence, the Commander unfolded his arms and turned to inspect James, who took every ounce of strength left in him and stared right back, refusing to look away in submission. Shepard raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t say anything.

“You needed to speak with me, sir?” James asked, trying to move the moment along to something less stressful.

Shepard continued to inspect him for a minute and then began circling around to James’ side, never taking his eyes off the Lieutenant. James had the most ridiculous notion that he was being stalked by a wolf. Or perhaps that thought was not so ridiculous after all. He balled his hands into fists as the Commander moved behind him, but otherwise James fought every instinct and refused to move. To jump and turn and otherwise look like he was as afraid as he felt.

“You seem tense, Vega.” Shepard said finally, voice flowing from behind with the usual blank bravado.

James licked his lips, squeezed his eyes shut for a second before responding. “Do I, sir?” He asked, lacing as much sarcasm into his voice as he dared.

Shepard laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. James heard the buzz of an omnitool behind him, and then the telltale click as the door locked.

No. Please no.

“I see you still have some issues with that smartass attitude,” Shepard said, and this time James did jump, as the Commander’s voice sounded right by his ear, hot breath wafting across his cheek.

“Tell me…” Shepard continued still not moving from directly behind James. “What do we have to do to get that ironed out of you, soldier? I mean, I thought maybe after your first lesson, you would have learned to shut up. But apparently you need a fresh reminder.”

Fuck. You. James thought viciously, not daring to say the words out loud. Instead he scoffed. If he was already falling down a hole, he might as well start digging.

“Sorry, sir, that’s just my way,” He replied. Shepard laughed again, bringing one hand up to cup the back of the Lieutenant’s neck. And that… that nearly knocked James completely loose. He clenched nails into the palms of his hands, focusing on the sharp bite to keep from bucking the Commander’s hand off.

Shepard addressed EDI then, though his voice remained as quiet and close as when he was talking to James.

“EDI. You know what to do.”

There was a beat of silence in which James squeezed his eyes shut again, hoping against hope that the A.I. would disobey. Insist that Shepard let him go. Do _anything_. It made the sharp pang of betrayal in his chest all the more biting when her voice echoed through the cabin.

“Yes, Shepard,” She replied. “Logging you out.”

James couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that despite EDI’s obvious knowledge in what was going on, in what was about to happen, she would just continue following orders like that. I guess they can’t program everything into an artificial intelligence. Like a sense of justice or rebellion.

“Now then,” the Commander stated, finally releasing his tight grip on James’ neck and circling back around to stand in front of the other man.

He stared expectantly at the Lieutenant, who in turn forced his expression into one of complete apathy. Shepard crossed his arms, an impatient scowl marring his face.

“I assume you know what to do. Same as last time. Get on with it, soldier.”

James closed his eyes. Then opened them. It was now or never.

“N…no,” he snapped, hating himself for the brief stutter. Not the best start in being assertive. Fuck.

“Excuse me?” Shepard’s voice was a dangerous whisper, eyes glowing bright.

“I won’t,” James tried, making his voice louder, stronger. The Commander laughed, expression more of a snarl than one of amusement. He stepped forward, nearly brushing noses with James.

“You won’t?” He asked, cybernetic eyes burning into James’ brown ones.

“I won’t,” James repeated, not trusting himself to say anything more without throwing up.

Shepard simply stared at him, face going blank. There was nothing. No shock, no anger. No emotion at all. After a moment, he spoke.

“You know,” He began, tilting his head to the side. “Insubordination carries heavy consequences, Vega. I will strip you of your titles, your rank. Everything you worked so hard for in your miserable life,” He smiled a vicious smile then. “You will turn over your armor, your weapons, and the next time we dock, you can get the hell off my ship and join the rest of the useless civilians who are dying by the thousands because soldiers like you, who are supposed to protect them, don’t have what it takes to do the job.”

The words stung, no matter how much James tried not to let them. He had considered the consequences of disobedience, but the weight of them didn’t hit him until now. He would be useless. Without his place in the Alliance, he wouldn’t have access to weapons or other combat equipment. Without his military pay, he wouldn’t have two credits to rub together for black market equipment, either. He couldn’t protect anyone. There’d be no way to make an appeal, not for dishonorable discharge. Not against the word of the Great Commander Fucking Shepard. And Shepard knew this. He knew the whole fucking time. James felt his face burn with shame and rage as the Commander’s face broke into that shark-grin.

So…” Shepard began, voice slipping back into a dangerous whisper. “Am I going to have to find us a place to dock in the next 24 hours,” he moved his hands down to the belt of his pants. “Or are you going to be a good soldier, and do your duty to this galaxy?”

It wasn’t fair. He wanted to rebel. He wanted to tell the Commander to fuck off. But the guilt. The guilt of knowing he could be making a difference and instead got discharged because he couldn’t keep himself together. Shepard’s words echoed in his head.

_There’s not a single N7 that hasn’t sacrificed either themselves or their troops at some point for the greater good._

He almost laughed. The greater good. That’s all Shepard ever talked about. It’s all he ever talked about while he condemned entire races to die because their usefulness to him had expired. While soldiers broke under his command.

James’ knees hit the floor. _Whatever you say, pendejo._

If he couldn’t rebel in big ways, there were always the small ones. He took Shepard’s dick in his mouth, allowed the Commander to grip his hair, guide his movements. But only for a moment.

James bit down.

The look on Shepard’s face as he tore the Lieutenant away with a pained grunt made it all worthwhile. James only got a brief look, though, because a split second later, a red cracked fist collided with his face, knocking his head backwards. Shepard kept one hand gripped on the collar of James’ t-shirt to keep him from falling over and hit him again. James tasted blood with the second hit. Shepard pulled James’ bloody face up close to his, a snarl breaking the usually apathetic features of his face.

As he raised his fist for another strike, EDI’s voice echoed through the room.

“Shepard.”

James gave a weak, gurgled laugh between bloodied teeth. He had never been so glad to hear someone’s voice in his life.

Shepard looked like murder incarnate. He lowered his fist, not relinquishing the other hand’s grip on James’ shirt as he looked up.

“This better be good, EDI.” He said, voice cold with fury.

“Admiral Hackett is on the comm link in the war room, requesting an audience. I am assuming it is important.” EDI’s voice hitched dangerously close to sarcastic towards the end, and James had to bite his lip to keep from laughing again.

Shepard sighed and glared down at James before releasing his grip. James fell backwards onto the floor, barely catching himself with shaking arms. The Commander tucked himself back in his pants and straightened his clothing.

“Lucky you, Vega,” he said coldly and stormed out, leaving James alone in the floor.

The Lieutenant stood, gripping the edge of Shepard’s desk to steady himself. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the skin coming away bright red.

“Lieutenant Vega, I suggest you leave the Commander’s cabin. It will not be long before he realizes the conference call was a fabrication.”

James’s mouth gaped.

“EDI… you?”

Somewhere on the ship, probably in the bridge, James would have bet money that EDI’s mobile platform was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“I thought intervention was….necessary,” she replied. He laughed. Then winced as the motion pulled at his new cuts and bruises.

“Well thanks. I really mean that, EDI. Thank you.”

“Lieutenant Vega, if you would like, I could also scramble communications between your comm and Shepard’s. Perhaps it may alleviate some stress.”

He laughed again, a sob coming up with it, and nodded. “Yeah, that’s… that would be great. Thanks,” he said, walking towards the door and wiping at his mouth again.

Maybe they couldn’t program justice or rebellion into an A.I., but, hell, an A.I. could certainly learn those behaviors, it seems.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically just alcohol and goofy fluff

With EDI having scrambled comms between James and Shepard, James found avoiding the Commander significantly easier. When Shepard had asked EDI to investigate the cause, she said it must have been a glitch in the system, and that she would look further. James had laughed when she told him this, but it seemed he was relatively safe at the moment.

The atmosphere on the Normandy was still tense for him, though. More than once, he caught Shepard staring at him, face unreadable. The Commander couldn’t do anything, though, not with other crew members around. He figured Shepard suspected something was up, and James knew this small barrier was indeed fragile and temporary, but there was nothing Shepard could do about it yet, so James allowed himself to relax.

Within a few days they were docking at the Citadel again, something to do with Shepard meeting the asari counselor on urgent business. Whatever the case, James found himself at his little hidey hole in the refugee camp. He had brought two beers with him and sat nursing one while he fiddled with the melee weapons program on his omnitool.

“Hey, James,” Ashley’s voice came from behind, and he shut off his omnitool and turned around, giving her a winning smile.

“Welcome back, L.C.; I saved you a beer,” He held up the glass bottle, and she took it after a beat, cringing when she got a good look at him.

“Jesus, Vega, what happened to your face?”

She plopped down beside him and opened the beer, but didn’t take a drink as she waited for James to reply.

“Ahh, you know… the Commander is one hell of a dance partner.”

“You got those sparring with him?” She didn’t look entirely convinced.

James shrugged. “Gotta let off steam somehow.”

The woman beside him hummed in thought and took a swig of her beer, eyes examining his wounds.

“I didn’t see any injuries on him…” she noted after a moment. James shrugged again.

“He must heal fast. Those cybernetic upgrades and all.”

Ashley narrowed her eyes. “Or he has a habit of hitting harder than necessary…” she said, slight tremor in her voice. She looked away and drank deeply from her beer.

Something was off. James could feel it, could feel them delving into dark territory, darker than he could handle at the moment. So he attempted to steer the conversation to one less loaded with mines. “What? Nah… nah. It’s fine, Ash, really. If I couldn’t take a few hits, I wouldn’t be where I am today, you know?”

Her eyes held an unreadable expression as she stared at him. “I guess….” she said in a skeptical voice, clearly not wanting to broach the subject any further either. James felt the tightness in his chest loosen a bit in relief and sipped his drink.

“Anyways, what brings you down here?” He asked, finally succeeding in changing the subject.

“Oh, you know, I love sitting in secluded storage areas. This is my favorite one. Didn’t even realize you’d saved me a beer. What a gentleman,” she replied, joking. James laughed.

“Ahh, well. I am the best at inspiring certain moods,” he grinned cockily and drank the last of his beer.

Ashley raised one eyebrow. “Lieutenant,” she began, voice serious. “Are you _flirting_ with me?”

“What, no. Why? You wish I was, L.C.? Cos I can sure put on the moves when I want to,” he rolled his shoulders, still grinning, and gave her his best smoky eyes. “ _Tantas curvas y yo sin frenos.”_

She snorted. “Oh my god, no please, spare me. I don’t think I could hold myself up if you _really_ started trying your best,” She did a mock swoon that left them both breathless with laughter.

“God, I don’t know the last time I’ve laughed this much,” she said, finishing her drink and cupping the bottle between both hands.

He sighed and nodded in agreement. “Same… same… it’s great, though, you know? All the shit that’s going on. Gotta have fun somehow.”

“True enough. Shame you only brought me _one_ beer though,” she teased.

He threw his hands up. “Hey now, Williams, it's not like I’m made of beers!”

“I cannot believe you just said that…” she folded forward in laughter again.

“Listen, why don’t we hit up Purgatory if you're wanting to get your drink on that bad, ey?” It would be nice to drink with a friend, he thought, and not worry yet about returning to the tense atmosphere that had permeated the Normandy as of late.

“Fine, fine, Vega. But I’m assuming that oh so _sexy_ Spanish line you gave me earlier was an offer to buy me a drink, yeah?” She stood and crossed her arms.

He laughed and stood with her. “Well, not exactly, but why not?”

“There’s a good man,” she chuckled and followed him back into the bustle of the camps.

*****

When the time came for the Normandy to head out once more, neither James nor Ashley could walk without help from the other. They piled back into the ship, teary-eyed and laughing hysterically.

“And th…. and then…. oh god it was…. oh my god James listen to me….” Ashley babbled, leading the pair towards the starboard observation deck, where they collapsed side by side on the floor.

He covered his face with both hands, still giggling. “What happ... what happened, Ash?”

She howled with laughter. “We just FELL on our asses!”

“No! No I mean finish your… finish your story…. dios mío, did the ceiling move??”

Ashley snorted and rolled onto her side, slapping him on the shoulder.

“You’re drink… James… I mean you’re drunk…. I can’t believe you got drunk, James….” her voice tapered off, slurring more and more as she spoke.

He stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry. “No more than you, _la borracha_.”

She mumbled something that sounded like “eat shit,” but when James turned to look at her, she began snoring softly against his arm.

He chuckled and rested one arm behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

“Lieutenant Vega, do you require assistance?” EDI’s voice pierced his drunken haze.

“Eh?? Oh nah nah, EDI, this floor’s just nice….” he closed his eyes.

“Very well,” she replied, sounding amused. “Logging you out.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's anger boils over, and he takes it out on James.  
> TW for graphic violence and rape

To say Shepard was livid after Thessia would be a huge understatement. After delivering the unfortunate news to the asari counselor, the Commander had overturned some equipment in the war room, causing an explosion of sparks and smoke, and then he just stood there, chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides. He was a direct contrast to poor Liara, who had quietly stood with her hands clutching the war terminal, head bowed, shoulders hunched. James thought he could see the glistening of tears in her eyes, but she squeezed them shut too quickly to be for sure.

The rest of the crew that had gathered in the war room stood in silence as well, the atmosphere tense, as they all waited for someone to break the silence. Nobody else wanted to be the first to speak, and James didn’t blame them. He knew first hand exactly what Shepard was capable of when provoked, and the man seemed particularly unhinged at the moment. So James stood silently too, staring at his boots.

“Shepard…” Liara finally began, voice quiet and shaky. “There’s no way we could have known Cerberus would be there first….” she jumped when Shepard smashed one fist into the round table centered in the room.

“Not good enough!” He snapped. James saw Ashley flinch out of the corner of his eye, but she crossed her arms over her chest to try and hide it.

“I am sick of Cerberus beating me to the punch. It’s unacceptable,” Shepard stated, voice loud and harsh.

“Why don’t we kick them in the balls for a change?” Garrus offered, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Yes…” Shepard whispered, then looked up at everyone gathered. “Well? Do we have any leads?” He demanded.

Turns out Specialist Traynor had managed to track Kai Leng’s movement to Horizon, or the vicinity of Horizon, at least. After agreeing on this course of action, Shepard rounded on the crew once more.

“I want that data,” he stated. “I want Cerberus out of the equation, and I will not rest until Kai Leng knows the taste of his own intestines before he dies. Dismissed.” With that, Shepard turned and stormed out of the war room, leaving a shocked silence behind.

 

*****

James tossed and turned that night, beyond disturbed by the images he had seen coming from Thessia. He hadn’t been on the ground team, but there were vids enough to go around depicting the Reapers tearing the planet apart. He thought of Earth, remembering firsthand the smell of burning flesh and metal, the screams and chain explosions.

He put his hands over his face and sighed, yearning for sleep he knew would not be coming anytime soon. A soft sound on the other side of the shuttle bay caused him to sit up, but the room was pitch black.

“Esteban?” He asked, standing to turn on the overhead light at his station.

It wasn’t Cortez. The Commander stood in the center of the room, arms crossed. His eyes seemed to glow brighter, the scars across his face nearly pulsating. Shepard pulled up his omnitool and hit a few buttons, and the elevator door flashed red. A weird buzzing static filled the room, and then there was silence.

“James…” Shepard said, lowering his arm, voice husky. He almost sounded like he’d been crying, but James highly doubted that.

“Uhh, hey, Commander… you need someth…” his voice died in his throat as Shepard suddenly started towards him, eyes burning with rage.

Oh shit.

James barely had time to put his arms up to block the punch that Shepard threw at him. The next hit landed in his gut, and then he felt his ears ring as Shepard caught him underneath the chin. Fiery hands wrapped around his throat and squeezed hard enough to bruise. James groaned, scrabbling at Shepard’s hands, but the Commander’s grip was iron, face full of wild fury. So James reared his head back and smashed it forward into Shepard’s face.

Shepard let go, but in the next moment, he retaliated with a head butt of his own. James felt his nose crack, and warm liquid started pooling down his mouth. His back hit the ground, and Shepard’s hands wrapped around his throat once more, knees coming down on James’ arms, effectively trapping him.

His vision began to darken, and Shepard just grinned with bloody teeth, bringing his face up close to James’ before suddenly letting go. James took the brief moment to suck in air, throat burning. He dissolved into a fit of coughs.

Shepard’s fist came down on his face, and he felt the back of his head bounce off the hard floor.

“Listen, Vega…” Shepard gasped, wiping at his own mouth. “I’ve had a very hard day. So I am gonna need you to shut up, and stop struggling. You know it’s no good.” His eyes bulged from his head, expression completely contrasting the apathetic calm he normally wore. He shifted up slightly and turned James over onto his stomach. James groaned and tried to push up, but a knee in the center of his back kept him pinned down.

The Commander placed a hand on the back of his neck and leaned down, mouth directly beside James’ ear.

“Now,” he began, spitting a glob of blood beside James’ face. “Since you were so eager last time to use your teeth, I figured we’d try something new.”

 _No no nononono_. James bucked and yelled, trying to get Shepard off his back, but it was no use. Shepard responded by grabbing the hair on the back of James’ head and smashing his face into the floor. Everything went black for a second, and James vaguely felt cool air on his backside as the Commander tore his pants down. He gave a half groan, half sob, barely keeping himself from pleading with Shepard to stop. He heard the Commander spit a few times, and tried unsuccessfully to push himself up again.

He couldn’t stop the cry that escaped his lips, though, as Shepard entered him roughly and with barely any preparation.

James remembered one of his first assignments after joining the Alliance. On a little colony in the Terminus Systems. They were investigating the presence of pirates, but so far nothing of significance had turned up. He was leaving a small shelter with two fellow squad members, where a woman had let them rest and given them food.

When the door slid shut behind him, the house exploded. James had been thrown a good fifteen feet forward, and the entire back side of his armor had burned and melted into his flesh. His squad members died instantly, and he spent the next three weeks lying face-first in a hospital bed while doctors grafted new skin onto his back. The pain from the initial explosion hadn’t been anything particularly traumatizing. But as soon as the doctors began removing the melted armor from his flesh, James had howled and sobbed until they eventually sedated him.

He wasn’t aware when the Commander finished, still stuck between the pain of the past and present as Shepard stood with a heavy grunt and roughly slid James’ pants back up.

“Thank you for your service, soldier,” he said in a breathless voice. Then he was gone.

James was on fire. He sobbed into the floor, entire body shaking in pain and fear. He knew the Commander had a few screws loose, hell, he even knew the man had a sadistic streak as wide as council space. But he hadn’t anticipated this. In retrospect, maybe he should have. He didn’t know. All he knew then was that he needed to get up, clean off his face, and try to look like he hadn’t just had the Christ beat out of him, among other things. But he only managed to crawl a few inches before he collapsed and curled into a ball with a pitiful groan. Getting up was hopeless, so instead he closed his eyes and let the darkness devour him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, this is as bad as it's going to get I think, in terms of the abuse. There will definitely be some comfort and resolution coming up in the next few chapters, as well as some new information coming to light, so stay tuned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James finds himself dealing with the aftermath again.  
> TW for injuries, panic attacks and suicide ideation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit late had a combination of writers block and internet problems. I haven't gotten many responses for this story, which I guess isn't surprising, but I will say just in case that feedback is always welcome. Thank you to anyone still reading!

_Hot dusty air thrashed against his face as he stood in front of the Shroud. Something was missing, but he couldn’t remember what it was. The ground behind him exploded with a shrieking roar; his body was cemented in place. He couldn’t even turn his head. The dirt underneath his feet shook with a terrible force, and terror bloomed in his chest like poison. A wet, hissing sound, and his back was burning, burning, burning. He screamed, agonized, and Kalros screamed back, her great body tearing apart the ground beneath him, and then he was falling, falling falling. The thresher maw watched his descent. Her mouth opened. “James,” she said. “James. James JamesJames!”_

“James?!” He jerked awake, groaning as immense pain flooded his body and tucked himself further into the fetal positon. Everything hurt. He felt himself being shaken and tried to wave away whatever was bothering him, but the voice persisted, slowly morphing into the frightened voice of Cortez.

“James! C’mon, buddy, wake up. Wake up!” He groaned again and cracked his eyes open. Shit, even that hurt.

“Wh….” he tried, and then whimpered as a fresh wave of pain shot through his back and legs.

“Jesus Christ, James, what happened? Who did this to you?” Steve’s face was pale, eyes wide with fear.

“H…help…” James moaned. “Bed…..” God, nothing seemed to matter right then except that he be somewhere besides the hard floor.

“James, I need you to focus,” Steve gently placed one hand on the side of his face, lowering his own head to force eye contact. James just squeezed his eyes shut, clarity rushing in with the force of a sledgehammer.

“No… I can’t.” His voice cracked. He couldn’t just rat Shepard out. Not with a galactic war going on, and not while he was more or less stranded on this ship with the man. “Please, Esteban… just leave it….”

“What? no, James. We need to get you to Chakwas. I don’t know if you’ve looked in a mirror lately, but you’re messed up pretty bad.” Despite the forcefulness in Steve’s words, the man’s voice was soft and full of concern.

“Mmm. I just need… sleep…. please….” James opened his eyes and gave a pleading look at his friend. “Please just leave it. Just…. help me to my cot… please…. please….” a few tears slipped out, and he closed his eyes again, a shiver running through his body.

Cortez was silent for a beat before getting down and gently putting one of James’ arms around his shoulders.

“Okay fine. But don’t think I’m letting this go just yet,” the other man stated as he helped James over to his cot and lowered him down, covering his body with the blanket.

“Fair ‘nough,” James mumbled and rolled over, darkness washing through him once again.

*****

When he woke this time, his head felt clearer, but the pain radiating from his body pulsated as he shifted a bit to take stock in his surroundings. He was, indeed, lying on his cot, but now there sat beside him a few packets of medigel, some aspirin, and a bottle of water. He glanced up but there was nobody else in the shuttle bay. The Kodiak itself was gone, as well. Must be in the middle of a ground mission. James let out a sigh of relief, knowing he at least had some time to spare without running into Shepard. He needed to get out of the cargo bay, though, and suddenly he never needed anything more in his life.

Sitting up with a jolt that caused him to cry out in pain, he leaned over, gingerly touching one hand to his face to assess the damage. His nose was beyond tender and swollen, dried blood caked underneath and coating his mouth. He reached around, feeling at the welt that had formed on the back of his head, and marveled at the fact that he didn’t have a concussion. At least he hoped he didn’t.

And that was just the damage to his upper body. He didn’t even want to think about what had been done to his lower body. He groaned again and grabbed up the medical supplies, swallowing down four aspirin and chugging the water so quickly he almost gagged it back up.

He grabbed the medigel and stood, legs and ass protesting the movement. He needed a shower. A scalding hot one. With the first step, James almost fell onto his face, and he stopped for a moment to calm his breathing, tame his shaking legs and arms.

 _I’ve had worse. I’ve had worse. I’ve had worse._ He played that mantra over and over in his head until he eventually caught himself saying it out-loud in a hoarse whisper. Somehow he managed to grab fresh clothes and limp his way to the elevator without collapsing. He pushed the button for Deck 3, rested his forehead against the wall and silently hoped that the crew deck wouldn’t be too crowded, and he could slip into the showers with no one noticing or asking questions.

His luck held, and James soon found himself underneath a scalding spray of water. He had undressed with his back to the mirror, not yet ready to stomach what he would see once he saw his reflection. So he just stood under the spray, shoulders hunched, fists clenched at his side as the water bounced off his skin in a burning frenzy. His body ached still, but the burn of the shower made an effective distraction, and the heat soothed his sore muscles.

Images of the night before flashed in his head, and he placed both hands over his eyes, trying to control the panicked breathing. Shit. He hadn’t had a panic attack since…. hell he didn’t even know when. Probably sometime not long after he got his entire squad killed. And now? Well. Days Without Incident: 0. He laughed, and it came out more as a choked sob as the panic attack washed over him alongside the hot water of the shower. His breath became more and more wheezy, and he feared he might pass out and crack his head open; which… now that he thought about it, might not be so bad a fate after all.

“Fuck…. fuck….fuck…” he whispered over and over between shuttered breaths, voice gradually gaining higher pitch with each _fuck_ until he was simply whimpering to himself, body shaking. He sunk into a crouch, hands over his head as he fought the sudden urge to bash his skull against the wall until everything went dark.

James isn’t sure how much time he’s lost when the panic attack begins to fade, but his muscles ache even more as he forces himself to stand again, hands plastered to the wall to support his shaking legs. He grabs a washcloth and methodically begins scrubbing himself, careful to avoid the lower areas.

EDI’s voice suddenly rings out overhead, her voice uncharacteristically subdued.

“James. I wanted to apologize for last night. All of my sensory inputs in the shuttle bay were jammed. I didn’t realize until it was too late. I am…. I am sorry.”

He paused his scrubbing and sniffled. He didn’t even remember when he’d started crying.

“No… no it’s okay, EDI. Not your fault.”

“Nonetheless. I am….ashamed….I was unable to help.”

James briefly thought that shame was a rather human emotion for an A.I. to feel, but didn’t question it.

“It’s okay…just….I need to be alone right now, EDI.”

She was silent for a moment before responding.

“Yes, Lieutenant. Logging you out.”

He wiped at his eyes, pretending it was just the water from the shower making it hard to see. He didn’t blame EDI, not really. Shepard was an engineer, after all. If anyone could find a way to bypass her sensory modems it was him. There was nothing that could be done, it seemed. But rather than soothing him, that thought just made him more and more frustrated. He finished washing himself and turned the water off, ears ringing with the new silence.

Stepping out, he was careful to avoid the mirrors as he dried off and grabbed the medigel. _Now the real fun begins_ , he thought bitterly, finally turning to stare at his reflection. His nose was most likely broken, the bridge swollen, the skin around the area purple and cracked. He was bruised underneath both eyes, and around his throat were purple handprints where Shepard had nearly squeezed the life out of him. James swallowed, willing himself not to look away from his reflection.

He opened the first pack and smeared the gel on his nose and mouth, the cool pain relief seeping through his skin in soothing waves. James then applied what remained to his neck and the back of his head for good measure before tearing open the second pack. His eyes shut involuntarily as he brought a shaking, medigel coated hand around to his backside, pausing just at his entrance. He suppressed a shutter and began coating medigel around the raw opening. The sensation nearly brought him to his knees from the pain and blind panic, but as the medigel began to numb him, he found the task easier, more detached.

As quickly as he could manage, James tossed the empty packets into the garbage and pulled on his clothes. The thought of returning to the shuttle bay sent a wave of anxiety through his spine, so upon exiting the restroom, he instead turned and entered the starboard observation deck. It was empty, a fact that both disappointed and soothed him. He sat on the couch, facing the large window, and stared out at the blackness dotted with stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE FROM 11/17/2016: hi anyone who is still here so the thing is I sorta fell out of interest in Mass Effect for a while (which is why I haven't updated in almost a year) I am planning a fresh play of the series soon though to get me back into the muse of it all so I still have not given up on this story yet and if anyone is still waiting for an update I am terribly sorry I hope to outline a rough conclusion to this soon and get it all out!

**Author's Note:**

> I am a bit of a continuing perfectionist when it comes to writing, so this fic is going to be in a pretty indefinite state of being edited constantly, so if you see sentences or words, etc changing, that's why.


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